Netherworld Solo

I have returned “to tell you a tale”. . . . .

The imagination finds a rich, black vein here– the march down weird, haunted halls to a forsaken, unearthly wind that evokes H.P. Lovecraft Monsters as the trthe troubadour tells his story over a lute.

Never telling what can swim-up from that deathly state of coffin-dirt, ookey spiders and skittering creatures from the subterranean depths as “anything, goes”– so long as it’s grotesque and “not what you expected”.

Actually, I’d think that the after-life and purgatory would probably be much more like that IRS office of paperwork and endless waiting, though the outside of those confining walls would be scary, doubtlessly.

But outside. . . . . in the voids of the basement subconscious. . . . . you’re on your own.

Yes, this is where all the dark, interesting creatures revel an have their full-moon cauldron-dance around the skirting shadows, of misbegooten forms and other weird stuff.

Happy haunting, my ghoulish friends.

Netherworld Solo

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